Blind Spot
by clair beaubien
Summary: A chance conversation with another hunter reveals what Bobby really thinks of Sam.


It was a long day and good hunt and I treated myself to a cold one in a bar friendly to hunters. I was about two hundred miles from home and looking forward to nothing more than finishing my beer and getting some shut eye. I was alone at my table but I was keeping my ears open to the conversations around me. Never know when you're gonna pick up some good info on the slick.

This time the info came knocking at my table.

"Hey - Singer." It was Hank Spears, I known him awhile. He spun a chair and sat down with his malt. "You get uglier every time I see you."

"From you Spook - that's a compliment." I told him. "What's got you ranging so far afield?"

"Running up some meshtiga, came out of an old well some poor dumb yuppies dug up when they was renovating their old stone house."

"Holy oil and the prayer of St. Benedict?" I asked.

"Don't you know it. Wish all the jobs could be that easy." He took a sip of his drink. "Hey - you know the Winchesters don't you? The old man and his two kids?"

"I cross paths with 'em every once in awhile." I ain't lived this long giving up too much info.

"I heard something." He leaned closer, talking low.

"Didja?" I figured he was gonna ask about John. It was over a year since he died and a hunter as good as John gets _missed._

"No. His boy? His youngest?"

"Yeah?" I stayed casual but I felt a chill go down my spine. Sam'd been dead, now he was alive - that wasn't gonna go unnoticed forever.

"Y'know possessions are up this year, so are exorcisms."

You don't have to be in this business long to discuss possessions like they was gas prices and consider it normal.

"What's that got to do with the Winchesters?"

"Demons are stupid enough to think if they trade up some information they won't get their asses blasted back to hell. A few of 'em recently have been kickin' up some info like it's the scores to the Superbowl up front. Real _interesting _information."

I shrugged like I couldn't care less.

"You gonna share or you gonna make me guess?"

Spook leaned even closer and dropped his voice even lower.

"He's hell's golden boy. There's an army building up downstairs and Baby Boy Winchester is lining up to be Commander in Chief."

"What the - ?" I sure wasn't expecting to hear that and I grabbed for some plausible deniability. "Spook - I remember when you believed that demon that said your wife was abducted by aliens."

He didn't blink an eye.

"Three or four demons all saying the same thing? Y'gotta take notice of that."

I shrugged again like it was the craziest thing I ever heard but my mind went into hyperdrive. Sam? Yeah demons lie and _yeah, _when you hear the same thing from three or four of 'em, you pay attention. But Sam? Could something have gotten its hooks into Sam? I needed to talk to Dean and I needed to do it _now._ I drained my glass and got ready to blow the place.

What Spook said next, that kept me in my seat.

"I hate it when we freaking gotta take out a hunter."

"You think you're gonna _hunt_ Sam Winchester?"

"Gotta be done and you know it." He said it like he was talking about putting down a sick dog. "Can't take the chance. He might not even be human. Hell - didja ever wonder how John Winchester got to be such a good hunter? Maybe it was the kid had special powers or something. He's gotta be smoked."

"John Winchester was a good hunter on account a'he didn't listen to every cockamamie bullcrap story demons tried to feed him, that's how." I was trying to keep my cool but my hackles was raised as high as they ever been. Not Sam.

"Spook, y'ever met the Winchesters? Y'ever had dealings with 'em?"

"Met 'em once, the old man and the older son, a few maybe five years ago. Sure heard a lot about 'em though."

"Then you gotta know that the only way to get to the younger boy is through the older boy. And you ain't _never_ gonna get through the older boy."

_And then I remembered..._

"What - Dean?" Spook blew that away like it was bubble gum. "I been asking around. His baby brother is his blind spot. When Sam's in trouble, Dean don't act, he _reacts._ Easy enough to work a diversion, suck him in thinking he's _saving _his brother and -." He made a gesture like firing a pistol.

_...come Sam's twenty-fifth birthday next year, Dean wasn't gonna be there to protect him anymore. I known that boy since before he could tie his shoes and come next May, we were gonna be all the family either of us had left. _

"Spook - _if_ you get through Dean - and that's a big-ass _if_..." I tried to sound like I was amused but Spook was about to find out how _unamused_ I was. "...you know what you're gonna find _still _standing between you and Sam Winchester?"

"What?"

I stood up and leaned over him, getting right in his face.

"_ME _- and I got no blind spots. You don't touch a hair on his head, you hear me? _Not a hair on his head._ Now I'd tell you not to whisper a syllable of this but I know that ain't possible so you pass _this _around with it - anybody f***s with the Winchesters is gonna find out they don't know the meaning of the word. You following me?"

"Yeah. I'm following you." He said it mad and a decades old acquaintance died right there and I knew there'd be more down the road I'd lose over this, but I wasn't about to give that boy up.

"Good." I threw money down on the table. "Have a drink on me." Then I went to my truck, dialing my phone on the way.

"Dean? Bobby. Where are you? We need to talk."

The End.


End file.
